


Spin the Bottle

by Wxlves



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18015716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wxlves/pseuds/Wxlves
Summary: That was the point of the game, wasn’t it? To kiss whoever the bottle landed on? He pointedly ignored the small voice in his head that pointed out how he was only taking advantage of an opportunity. ‘You /want/ to kiss Bucky and this is your only chance.’ Another, more sensible voice told the first to shut it.(Aka It all started with a game of Spin the Bottle)





	Spin the Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> There’s some period typical homophobia and internalized homophobia (partially relating to religion.) It’s not too heavy but if that’s triggering, then don’t read!

The light caught on the green glass as the bottle slowly spun to a stop, Bucky waiting with bated breath to see who it would land on. When it finally stopped the narrow neck of the bottle pointed straight at Steve. 

Steve shrugged, looking nervous but still prepared to kiss Bucky. That was the point of the game, wasn’t it? To kiss whoever the bottle landed on? He pointedly ignored the small voice in his head that pointed out how he was only taking advantage of an opportunity.  _ You  _ want _ to kiss Bucky and this is your only chance.  _ Another, more sensible, voice told the first to shut it. 

“Spin it again!” Charlie Hansen called out. 

“That ain’t the rules, Charlie. Don’t you have to kiss the person it lands on,” Dottie Williams retorted, her hair as fiery as her temper.

“Fellas can’t kiss other fellas, only girls and guys can kiss.”

“But when Dottie spun and landed on Carol they had to. You just wanted to watch them kiss like a sicko.” Everyone turned in surprise towards Steve at this outburst, he was usually fairly quiet. 

Charlie wasn’t having it. “And I bet you just want an excuse to kiss Bucky, which is why you even bothered to defend her.” 

“That’s not true,” Steve replied hotly.

“Rogers, you’re a fuckin’ fairy and everyone here knows it.” 

Steve was standing in a heartbeat, bony hands curled into fists. “I’m no fairy. How about we take this into the street, Hansen?”

Bucky pulled Steve back into a sitting position. “Let it go, Steve. You too, Charles, just leave it be. I’ll re-spin, but it’s nothin’ personal Stevie.” Steve couldn’t help but feel Charlie had struck a nerve, an open, painful, damaged nerve that burned with even the slightest touch. 

•

“Lord, we pray for the sinners of this Earth.”

“Lord hear our prayer,” the congregation murmured back.

Father David spewed out a slew of sinners who needed the Lord’s help, including “godless pagans, rapists, killers, and those with homosexual tendencies, that the love of God guides them away from the sin of sodomy to the light.” Steve flinched slightly at that but did his best to hide it, avoiding his Ma’s curious gaze when his movement drew her eyes.  

When the churchgoers once again murmured “Lord hear our prayer,” Steve said it right along with them, pointedly ignoring the way his mind wandered towards images of familiar blue eyes. 

•

Steve began to realize he had a problem when he flipped through his battered sketch book and found drawing after drawing after drawing of  _ Bucky _ . Some had been drawn on lazy afternoons when they’d sat on the rooftop of the flat, baking in the sun and trying to get their little radio to stop making static long enough to hear baseball scores. Bucky would lounge, relaxing on the searing rooftop, only sitting up occasionally to give their little radio a whack. Steve would sit with his sketch pad, one ear on the radio both eyes on Bucky, relishing the opportunity to draw him looking so content. 

Others were drawn from Steve’s memory. When he’d be stuck in bed with yet another illness and Bucky was down at the docks, working to help Sarah cover the cost of Steve’s medicine, Steve would draw for hours. He’d draw what he remembered Bucky looking like while they ate together at their scratched-up table in the middle of the Rogers’ tiny kitchen. 

Steve would also draw from imagination. He’d draw what he imagined Bucky looking like at work, bent over lifting boxes upon boxes at the docks. There was one drawing that he kept folded over so nobody would see it, one of how he imagined Bucky naked. It was more sexual than it had any right to be (Steve couldn’t even claim that it was just a human body study) and it was this drawing that had him tucking his sketchbook under his mattress when it wasn’t directly in his hands. He hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to draw it, had barely even known what he was doing until the rough sketch was done and he’d come back to reality and realized the face he’d sketched in looked oddly like Bucky’s. At that point he felt compelled to finish it, and so he had, adding more shading and detailing. 

That night, praying as he always did, he added “help me stop these thoughts, Lord,” to what was a surprisingly short list. 

Steve sometimes found himself flipping back through his sketchbook to that drawing, unable to tear his eyes away. He prayed harder each time. The thoughts didn’t stop.    
  


_ What’s the worst that could happen?  _ Steve thought, trying to encourage himself.  _ Ma could hate you and kick you out, and you’d be living on the streets and wouldn’t last a day, _ his brain helpfully supplied. 

But Steve knew, in his heart of hearts, Sarah wouldn’t leave him to the streets. Besides, she might know how to help him. 

He stood in the doorway to her bedroom, shifting from foot to foot. “Ma?”

“Steve, is everything alright?” Her voice was so warm and comforting he almost wanted to say  _ yeah everythin’s fine  _ and turn right around and walk back out. Instead, he shook his head. 

Her brow furrowed with worry and she patted the bed beside her. Even though Steve was sixteen and technically too old for it, he climbed under the covers and settled next to her. 

“Ma, I think I’m-” his throat closed around the words. He coughed slightly, took a deep breath, and continued. “I think I’m a queer.” 

Sarah’s voice was filled with sadness and something else, another emotion Steve couldn’t place. “Stevie, that’s not-”

Steve cut her off, wanting to finish his thoughts before she got the wrong idea. “I know it ain’t a good thing and I know God doesn’t like it. I want to  _ not  _ be one and thought you might know how to fix me.”

“Oh, Steve. It’s not a  _ bad  _ thing, nothing about you has to be  _ fixed _ .”

Steve was confused. “But the Pastor says the homosexuals are goin’ to hell and it’s unnatural and all the guys are always usin’ fairy or queer as an insult and-”

Sarah reached out, wrapping an arm around Steve’s bony shoulders. “If God really didn’t want anybody to be homosexual, he wouldn’t have created them that way. All those men who say it’s an abomination don’t trust in God, they don’t trust in Him to know what’s right and do what’s right.  _ That  _ is the real sin.” 

“Then why’s it illegal?” Steve had come into this thinking he was in the wrong and he was stubborn enough to cling to the idea.

“It’s illegal because all the people who think they know what God wants are the same people who make laws. There is nothing wrong with you liking men, Stevie, but I worry about you. Everyone else thinking it’s bad, I worry you’ll get hurt.” She wrapped him fully in a hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “My beautiful boy.”

“I can take care of myself, Ma,” he mumbled, muffled voice coming from where his face was buried in her neck. 

•

“I came over lookin’ for you but your ma said you were out. Asked if I could help her move the mattresses to the balcony to air ’em out since I was here.” Bucky sat on Steve’s empty metal bed frame, his back to Steve. His voice sounded oddly strained. 

“Buck, what’s wrong?”

Bucky turned to face Steve with a black-bound sketchbook in his hands. The sketchbook Steve  _ kept under his mattress _ to hide. 

_ Oh  fuck.  _

“I can explain, Buck, I promise.”

Bucky was staring one page in particular. Steve couldn’t see the drawing on it but he knew that crease down the middle, knew with a horrible sinking feeling which one it was. 

“Do you- do you really see me like this?”

“It’s not...I…” Steve stammered, unsure of what to say. 

He was suddenly standing right in front of Steve. Bucky was often so gentle Steve forgot how much larger the other boy was until he stood so close, more menacing than he’d ever been towards Steve. “Answer the question, Stevie.”

Steve shrank back, fearful. “Yes,” he barely whispered, sure he was about to lose his only friend but too afraid to lie. 

When Bucky didn’t move Steve glanced up at him. He stood more still than Steve had ever seen, the rise and fall of his chest the only movement in his powerful body. 

After what seemed like hours Bucky abruptly leaned down, pressing his lips to Steve’s in a chaste kiss. Steve froze, but pulled away after a heartbeat, anger coursing through his veins.

“Buck, no.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What, Steve?”

“Don’t  _ do  _ this. Don’t just kiss me to make fun of me, it ain’t right.”

An incredulous laugh slipped past Bucky’s lips. “You stupid punk, I ain’t playin’ with your feelings. I- I liked you for a while but I never thought you like fellas and then I found this and just found out you feel the same.” His voice dropped in volume as he spoke, fearful of being overhead. “And now I want to kiss you, if that’s alright with you.”

Steve’s pulse roared in his veins as he processed what he was hearing. James Barnes likes guys? James Barnes likes  _ Steve _ ? Skinny, asthmatic Steve? 

Bucky still stood by Steve, growing visibly more unsure by the minute as Steve’s mind raced to outpace itself. Steve finally huffed in impatience and grumbled,

“If you’re gonna kiss me you jerk, you better come down here where I can reach.”

A wide smile spread across Bucky’s face and he leaned in for a kiss for the second time that afternoon. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a sucker for Bucky and tiny!Steve in the 40’s. Oh well.
> 
> Towards the beginning Steve called the asshole kid a “sicko.” That was 40’s slang for a perv.


End file.
